


Keep On Using Me

by cruelest_month



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Banter, Consensual Kink, Do Not Archive (The Magnus Archives), F/M, Pegging, Prison Sex, Rough Kissing, Rough Sex, Slight Spoilers for Episode 148
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-10
Updated: 2019-08-10
Packaged: 2020-08-14 02:41:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20184904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cruelest_month/pseuds/cruelest_month
Summary: Basira and Elias have another conversation. She finds a decent use for him in private, but nothing can keep him from finding uses for her.





	Keep On Using Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fatal_drum](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fatal_drum/gifts).

“I can’t miss our little chats if you keep coming back,” Elias points out, regarding Basira with interest. “I meant what I said about violence, Detective. I am perfectly willing to do whatever else you might like, however.”

She regards him with a good deal of anger and distaste, but it’s not for him. Not really. It ought to be, of course, and she thinks it is because that is easier than considering alternatives. She finds it simpler to be mad at him or Jon than anyone else. She would kill him if he tried to make this observation. She thinks about hurting people all the time now because she has to be so very careful with everyone around her.

“You can’t really stop me.” It’s an idle threat. She’s restless and tense. He can feel her right knee vibrating under the table. She has less to do now than ever and she’s feeling the sting of his betrayal keenly today. He was supposed to give her something or someone to fight. A mission, a purpose, and a cause. He’d given her a road trip with a derelict Archivist to the middle of nowhere.

“There’s a panic button. I’ve been ignoring it out of polite courtesy but I certainly don’t have to.”

“That’s if you can reach it.”

Elias tilts his head and studies her with a smile. “Ah, Basira. Whatever do you require?” 

She stays silent. She’s regretting coming here even though she’s prepared. He’s done a bit of planning himself. He doesn’t want to be accused of failing to anticipate her again. Even if she’s no longer as predictable as she once was.

“Tell you what,” he offers. “I won’t ask, you won’t say, and we’ll forget the button if you just take what you need.”

Her thoughts are rude where he’s concerned. He’s not sure why she doesn’t share them. Probably because she knows he can easily glean and read them if he wants to. And he wants to.

You’re here for me, he thinks. Whatever you want to tell yourself, it doesn’t change the fact that you came here to see me.

“Get up then,” she says at last. “Be quick about it.”

He stands and she rises as well, running something over the steel surface of the table between them. A cloth. No doubt to sterilize it and Elias appreciates that.

“Over here.”

He walks to her, his manacles making a faint sound as he does so. “Am I to say anything?”

“Do you have something worth saying?”

“I brought conditioner. I wasn’t sure what you’d sneak in with you.”

Basira gives him a dark look then scoffs. “I can do without that sort of help.”

“What sort is that?”

“Your uniquely useless brand,” she informs him, backing him up against the table until his legs hit it. “You’ve only two things to do and you’ll do just fine at that. Wipe that smug prick expression off your face and bend over.”

“I’ll need to—”

She bites his face. Well, not entirely. Not exactly. He imagines she’s offering up the sort of kiss a wild animal might give. It’s a savage bite to his lips though that softens into something else just a minute before she turns him around.

She grabs him by the hair and pushes him down. Elias complies, allowing himself a smirk since she can’t see it. His forehead rests against the table as she puts his hands over his head. 

He breathes lightly as she deals with his sweatpants. She pulls up his t-shirt until it’s simply hanging off of his handcuffs. He looks over his shoulder at her as she sets down a few items. She’s right. She certainly doesn’t need his help. 

Her strap-on is large, dark, and thick. The head of its cock brushes against his ass as she runs her hands down his back. She digs her nails in, not enough to draw blood, but enough to leave marks. When she bites at the nape of his neck, he keeps himself from groaning.

“You knew this would happen,” she accuses.

“I knew something like this would happen, yes. It’s prison after all.”

She huffs again, this time against his ear, and he’s annoyed to find he likes the sound. “Waiting for Jon?”

Elias shakes his head. “No, Basira, quite the contrary. I always hoped it would be you.”

She grabs his hair again, tugging hard once then twice. She moves back then, coating a few fingers before sliding them into him. She leans back in, her rigid cock pressing against his thighs. She bites him as she moves each inserted finger, adding another and then another slowly then quickly. 

Elias makes a strangled sound, relishing the feel of her cool fingers inside him and the cold table underneath him.

Basira begins to pick up her pace behind him, scissoring him open before pulling her hand away. The head of her cock rests against him before she pushed in. She slides deeper and deeper until she was on top of him, buried to the hilt. 

He feels so full and relaxed with her inside of him. His fists clench and unclench from their position above him. He's hard against the solid table, aching for movement and for more.

Her lush breasts press against him, and he can feel her nipples on his back. Then she's moving, pushing in and out of him, biting at his ear. 

He's been clamping down on his moans and other sounds all this time. He rests his forehead against the steel beneath him, rocking in time with Basira's thrusts.

She swats at him, smacking his thigh roughly. "I know you love the sound of your own voice. Make more noise."

He hesitates. She bites into his shoulder until he yelps. Her nails rake along his sides and through his hair. But she switches to her fingers when she touches his cheeks and his jaw. Fine then.

"Better," she tells him once he's responding to every one of her movements. She moves faster, still ignoring his arousal. 

This doesn’t prevent Elias from coming, or Basira, for that matter. She groans against him, achieved some sort of satisfaction. 

However, she’s not done. She stays inside of him. She catches her breath then attacks his neck again. Her teeth are sharp and he’s not looking forward to all the bruising she’ll inevitably leave behind. 

They’re both ready around the same time. She doesn’t comment on his stamina and he doesn’t mention hers. 

When Basira takes him again, it’s harder and faster this time. Each bit of friction burning pleasantly through him as Basira shoves Elias flat against the tabletop. Her hand wraps around his length only when he finds himself begging for it. Her thumb strokes him slowly as her fingers move quickly.

When Elias comes, it's all he can do to keep his gasping to a minimum. He could take more, but he doesn't see the need to mention it. She’s given him plenty and he won’t test the frayed remains of her patience. Not today. Not when there’s simmering anger and resentment still looking for a victim.

He winces as she pulls out abruptly. He feels decidedly sore and uninterested in much when she turns him over.

He doesn't mind that she looks so victorious as she looms above him. Clearly she thinks the opposite, which makes Basira even more pleased. Elias offers nothing to correct her assumption, smiling thinly and only briefly up. She’s sweating as much as he is. The air circulates poorly in this particular room, but it’s the workout that’s done it. 

She moves further away, eyes fluttering closed briefly, and he is reminded of how tigers don't purr. If they trust you and tolerate you, they'll lower their guard by letting you linger nearby. They'll close their eyes.

"So you're capable of being useful," she muses as she cleans them up. “Just had to figure out what the proper use would be without your advice and input.” 

She does a much better job sorting herself out than she does with him, Elias can't help but notice. Still, she tends to him with more of an effort than he’d honestly expected. He doesn’t offer to assist. 

He notes that she leaves behind the conditioner when she rounds up her supplies and that’s good. It’s a small, insignificant bottle, but he had to trade a decent amount for it. The ones he’d tried to take without asking from the showers had all contained some sort of disgusting attempt at alcohol.

"As a sex prop, Detective?” he finally asks. “How charming."

"Funny. I didn't hear a single objection."

"Hm." He exhales sharply. "I don't have one." He won't have any next time either, but he needs to guarantee it. "You've got it all out of your system this time, I trust."

Basira chuckles. She comes over and fixes his shirt. She nuzzles his chin with her knuckles before handling his sweatpants. "Quite the contrary, Bouchard. I expect to be allowed access to you whenever I like it."

Elias regards her thoughtfully. "What do I get out of this?"

Basira returns the gaze with wary suspicion. "What you just got out of it."

"Since I’m to be subjected to the somewhat dubious pleasure of your company… How about an occasional conversation?" Elias asks. 

She rolls her eyes. "I've less than nothing to say."

"To me."

Basira shrugs as she retrieves her own clothes from a chair. "To anyone,” she admits. That’s why she keeps coming back. He counts for very little in her book and he’s unlikely to tell anyone else what she tells him. “I don't want to talk. We're doing very little of that back at the Institute and it’s lovely."

No, it isn’t, but it’s necessary. Or so Peter says. "Then a brief bit of extended articulation will hardly kill you, now will it?"

She stares at him hard once she’s entirely presentable. He wonders what she sees or how deep she looks. He wonders how she'll fix herself. If and when she’ll fix herself. Assuming she figures it out in time. "Fine, as long as it's before and never after. I’m leaving after. I’m leaving now, in fact.”

“Of course. Don’t tell the guards anything about my current condition. I’d hate to lose out on the time we spend together.”

Basira blinks. The tips of her ears color slightly and she scowls at him. “Let’s make one thing clear, Elias. This is exactly what it seems like and nothing more. If you ever start to prattle on about your feelings, I'll gut you like a fish."

Elias laughs. "Hardly, Detective," he replies. “I wouldn’t dare.”

She leaves as she said she would.

Elias smiles up at the ceiling at the cameras that aren’t running. The guards are so very easily bribed here. He gets up from the table slowly, wincing as he does so. He can handle the trip back. It’s important that it isn’t obvious anything has happened yet.

He doesn’t think Basira will be pleased if this works out to his advantage. There’s only so much incompetence that prison guards can get away with allowing and no shortage of people to blame for what she’s done to him. House arrest will certainly be on the table if it means Elias will shut up about an alleged allegation of abuse.

She’ll be back one way or another, he thinks as he pulls out the sweatshirt he left on the back of his chair. Regardless of where he ends up, she’s not done with him. He’s looking forward to it.

**Author's Note:**

> It had to be done. After some research, of course. I'm going into hiding now.


End file.
